MHD - 28

Chapter 28. That Afternoon at 2 PM

“…That concludes the report.”

Director Oh, who had just finished delivering his business update, paused briefly to maintain a respectful silence.

Jaehyuk tapped his fingers lightly on the desk a few times, seemingly lost in thought. Then, without hesitation, he began issuing instructions.

“Set up an acquisition committee for the AWS merger and have them submit an analysis report by the end of this week.”

“As for Saman SW, wasn’t that the company run by former Director Yoo? Double-check who we contacted there. Make sure no one’s taking undue profits as a middleman.”

As always, his directives to the subsidiaries were swift and decisive. Director Oh nodded repeatedly as he jotted down the stream of instructions.

Jaehyuk, with his uncanny ability to stay several steps ahead, had never made a single mistake in his work.

When rumors first spread about Jaehyuk’s return to Korea, the stagnant waters of Kangrim Group had sneered.

“What can a fatherless child possibly achieve?” The mockery carried undertones of disdain for Yoon Ji-seon, the current head of the group.

But as some of the company’s struggling ventures began to recover, executives slowly started to realize that Jaehyuk was not someone to underestimate.

His quick judgment, fearless decision-making, and extraordinary management skills left no doubt—he was far from ordinary.

Recognizing Jaehyuk’s value, Director Oh treated him not merely as a third-generation chaebol heir but as the future leader destined to guide Kangrim forward. It was a gesture of respect, transcending age, directed toward someone overwhelmingly superior.

And then there was his appearance—handsome enough to captivate even other men. Even his professional smile, though clearly utilitarian, could stop people mid-sentence.

In a country obsessed with appearances and wealth, Director Oh firmly believed it would be nearly impossible to find someone more perfect than Jaehyuk in every aspect.

However, lately, Jaehyuk’s behavior had become increasingly perplexing.

Tap tap.

The report was over, and answers had been given, yet Jaehyuk continued tapping the desk absentmindedly.

His eyes narrowed as if deep in thought, then he clicked his tongue and let out a hollow laugh.

Here we go again.

Lately, Jaehyuk had developed strange habits.

Sometimes his face turned chillingly cold for no reason, or he muttered to himself with an unsettling expression before breaking into a weary smile.

Each time, Director Oh wondered if he’d done something wrong, his heart sinking in anxiety.

Now, too, Director Oh shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether to vanish like dissipating mist or stay put until Jaehyuk spoke again.

His eyeballs darted left and right as he debated how to earn praise for being perceptive.

“By the way…”

Finally halting his finger-tapping, Jaehyuk lifted his gaze from the desk and turned it toward Director Oh.

“Remember the contract we postponed last time? The one with Ryuto Research Institute. Give me an update on the current situation.”

Ryuto Research Institute was the only facility in the country that processed a rare raw material. Thanks to them, it became possible to source small amounts of the material domestically, reducing reliance on Chinese imports.

It was groundbreaking, but production volumes were extremely low. Jaehyuk had delayed the contract, citing profitability concerns.

“Yes. They said they’d hold off on contracts with other companies until we contacted them again. I assume they’re still waiting.”

“Verify that. I heard Gwangwoon offered a significant advance payment back then.”

“When I checked a few weeks ago, they hadn’t signed with Gwangwoon Chemical yet, but I’ll confirm immediately. Should I instruct the relevant department to review the project again?”

“Hmm, no. My view on its low profitability hasn’t changed.”

“Then…”

“But since Chairman Baek of Gwangwoon Group is so invested in this venture, it’d be a shame to give it up so easily.”

Smirking faintly, Jaehyuk glanced at the clock on his desk.

The numbers “59” blinked and changed to “00.” It was exactly 2 PM.

“It’s 2 o’clock.”

As if speaking to himself, Jaehyuk noted the time and instructed Director Oh:

“Print out a copy of the contract now and contact the institute to confirm.”

“Yes, understood.”

Bowing slightly, Director Oh exited the room, thinking how fortunate he was to have waited. By mentioning the time, Jaehyuk seemed to emphasize that this task needed immediate attention.

Returning to his desk, Director Oh announced loudly to the entire secretary’s office that the Ryuto Research Institute matter should take priority.

KY Entertainment’s headquarters stood proudly in the heart of Gangnam Boulevard.

The sheer cost of the land alone was staggering, and the grand glass building reflected Donghwan’s penchant for ostentation.

Hee-soo stood in front of the towering glass structure, pulling out her phone to check the time.

1:50 PM.

Having arrived ten minutes before the scheduled time, Hee-soo swallowed hard and stepped into the KY Entertainment building.

“The CEO’s office is this way.”

Before Hee-soo could even state her business, the receptionist at the front desk, recognizing her, led her directly to the CEO’s office. With no time to catch her breath, she entered, relieved to find the room empty for now.

A wall clock hung directly in front of the sofa in the CEO’s office. Hee-soo stared blankly as the second hand ticked steadily.

58 minutes, 59 minutes, 00 minutes.

Finally, when the clock struck 2 PM, her heart began pounding with anticipation of when Baek Donghwan would burst through the door.

Ten minutes passed… then twenty.

As time slipped away without resolution, anxiety burned within her.

When the minute hand neared the six, a commotion erupted outside.

“Well, well. Who do we have here?”

The door slammed open, and Baek Donghwan strode in. His face had grown puffier since their encounter at his Namyangju villa, but his smug grin remained intact as he eyed Hee-soo. It was a triumphant sneer that screamed, “You’re nothing compared to me.”

She wanted to slap that loathsome face a few more times until it turned to mush, but instead, Hee-soo stood up and bowed politely.

“I apologize for arriving late.”

“Tsk, tsk.”

Donghwan clicked his tongue loudly, the sound echoing through the office.

She had anticipated this wouldn’t be easy, but it was exactly as expected. Straightening her back, Hee-soo clasped her hands in front of her and looked at him again. Regardless of how difficult it was, she had come here with a purpose—to achieve what she needed.

“CEO, shall I bring you something to drink?”

The secretary who had followed Donghwan in hesitated, asking if preparations were necessary. Donghwan waved dismissively.

“Get out, get out. I don’t need anything.”

The rude command caused the secretary’s face to redden momentarily. As she quietly moved to close the door behind her, Donghwan barked sharply.

“Hey, Secretary Kang! Didn’t I tell you not to make me look bad wherever we go?”

“Huh?”

Confused, the secretary questioned him. Donghwan glared and jerked his chin toward her feet. Following his gaze, the secretary—Kang—realized her mistake. She quickly bowed her head.

“S-sorry. I only wear these flat shoes while sitting to work, but I forgot to change them.”

“Then never stand up again. Are you stupid? Why do I have to keep reminding you of the same thing? Ugh, you drive me crazy!”

Tears welled up in the secretary’s eyes as she stood frozen, unsure what to do. Meanwhile, Donghwan pushed the door forcefully, causing her to stumble backward along with it.

Ignoring the flustered secretary, Donghwan slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

“These people... I’ve told them countless times not to dress so shabbily in an office where celebrities come and go. High heels are the basic standard.”

He chuckled darkly, his gaze sweeping over Hee-soo’s legs.

Hee-soo felt disgusted by the way he looked at her.

Though she wore 7cm heels, her outfit was modest and appropriate for someone coming to apologize—a simple dress paired with suitable shoes.

His lingering gaze traveled slowly up her calves, caressing her figure like a predator before stopping at her chest.

“I was curious about the woman Lee Jaehyuk couldn’t forget after nearly ten years. That germaphobe always made such a fuss whenever women came near him.”

Smirking, Donghwan twitched one eyebrow as he continued.

“But seeing you up close, maybe I understand why. Go ahead, show me. You said you came to apologize, right?”

Striding confidently, Donghwan plopped down onto the main seat of the sofa, spreading his legs wide apart.

Facing him, Hee-soo bowed deeply once more and apologized.

“I’m sorry. My behavior that day crossed the line. I sincerely apologize.”

Despite being the one insulted, she was forced to bow her head.

It was unfair, boiling inside her, but Hee-soo had no choice. If this man used his power to torment those around her, she had no option but to comply with whatever he demanded.

Keeping her head bowed silently, Donghwan clicked his tongue again.

“Pathetic!”

Muttering to himself, Donghwan called out to her impatiently.

“Hey, hey! When are you going to apologize?”

“Huh?”

Confused by his meaning, Hee-soo blinked rapidly.

“I said apologize. Actions speak louder than words. Show me just how sorry you are. Prove it with your actions.”

“...”

Her mouth fell open unconsciously, and Hee-soo couldn’t close it as she stared at Donghwan in disbelief. 

With his legs spread wide, Donghwan alternated his gaze between her and the space between his thighs, rolling his eyes mockingly. 

Only now did she understand what he meant by “apologize.” Hee-soo clicked her tongue in disbelief. 

“Ha.” 

“‘Ha’? Ha─? This bitch still hasn’t come to her senses.” 

Seeing Hee-soo click her tongue, Donghwan’s face flushed with anger as he abruptly stood up. 

“You still don’t know your place?” 

As his hand shot up suddenly, Hee-soo squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Being hit would have been preferable. 

She waited with her eyes closed, but then Donghwan spoke unexpectedly. 

“No, wait. If I slap your face here, that’d make us equals, wouldn’t it? But I can do something much worse to you.” 

Sensing him move away, Hee-soo snapped her head up to see Donghwan standing near the door of the CEO’s office. 

“We can’t have any scratches on our precious actress’s face, now can we? I’m not that kind of brute.” 

Click. 

The sound of the lock turning echoed through the room as Donghwan secured the door.